The Games They Play
by Butterfly Caught
Summary: Prologue 2 up! "Every step he took, field boots pressing over gleaming white tile, he was closer to having to choose between his own sense of justice and what he knew needed to be said and done. Of course, this would all be easier if a certain someone had not been involved. Ada- he was surprised to find that his need to protect her was alive and well, even after the test of time"
1. Prologue: Part One

AN: It's been a while, but I have returned with a new story! If you'd like more info visit my page!

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Full Summary: After the incident in Spain, the Las Plagas parasites are declared a global threat; meanwhile Ada hands over the parasite sample to a new and mysterious organization, however it goes missing. Ada's mission to find the sample leads her to confront her past and the person she used to be threatens to resurface. To make things worse, her path crosses yet again with Leon who's no longer bound by the Secret Service and thus begins her struggle to keep her past and her present separate. What kind of games must they play in order to keep their relationship from teetering off balance?

Rated T: Mild Violence, Mild Language, Mature Content in later chapters

Music Insert: This time around I've decided to add music notations only when a specific song inspired a certain scene. These will be found throughout the story (they will not be very frequent) and are optional. If you're not interested in knowing what song inspired what scene then ignore! Music notations are inserted in this format ::name of song by artist name::

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Disclaimer: The Games They Play is written for creative purposes and should be considered as a fan-fiction only. I do not own any of the unoriginal content used such as: names, characters, existing plots or images- that may have been used as fiction covers; all of which are aptly protected by the appropriate developers.

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The Games They Play

Prologue: Part One

2004

Berlin, Germany

A CHEONGSAM DRESS EMBROIDERED WITH BUTTERFLIES lay atop a rounded white chaise, the silky crimson fabric draped over it staining it the way a splash of blood stained a white wall. Grey-green eyes stared at the silver case harmlessly placed over the plush white carpet. The more she stared at it, the more it seemed to weigh down the room's sleek modern minimalist design. The thought of what the case safely held inside almost made her laugh, who would have known that the parasitic organism that took down an entire Spanish community would sit in one of Berlin's most posh hotels. But there was nothing to laugh about, the only surviving sample was in her possession and who she decided to give it to would determine her fate.

Ada Wong released a held breath, forcing her gaze away from the case and focused on the panoramic view overlooking the Spree River lit up by the bustling city at night. She had arrived at the Melia Berlin Hotel a day behind schedule, not bad considering the short-noticed changes in her plans. Leon S. Kennedy. The name curled into her thoughts unwillingly. She hadn't planned on seeing him ever again; somehow it felt like witnessing lightning strike twice.

Once again she found herself staring at the metal case. There was a point in her life when that case would have meant a job well done, and after a few pats on the back a ridiculous amount of money would have been wired to her bank account and that's all that would have mattered. End of story. But somehow that wasn't enough anymore. She wondered if she could ever go back to who she was, before Raccoon City, before…

_The cloying stench of rotting flesh clung to the stale air found within the police station's parking lot. With the sound of a gunshot echoing off the walls, she lifted her gaze. The boy with the blue eyes stared at her, his hands firmly gripping his firearm. Not R.P.D issued, she mused, though he was wearing an R.P.D uniform. Interesting. She was told that she'd have the police station all to herself. If he survived this long surely he owed it to pure dumb luck. But for the meantime might as well make use of him._

_ "I'm Leon S. Kennedy. And you are?"_

The phone rang interrupting the soft hum of acid jazz spilling from the sound system, the sound tugging her away from her thoughts. Leaning forward on the white velvet square edged couch, she reached for the prepaid phone that had been conveniently placed over the glass coffee table when she had first arrived. She pressed the answer key,

"An operative will arrive at your door. Hand over the case. You will receive another call for further instructions."

The line went dead. So the organization wasn't ready for a personal delivery. That wasn't a good sign, though she expected as much, after all, handing over the Master Plaga sample was just the beginning. Gaining trust was a tricky business, though over the years she's learned that it was a game of patience. She stood up catching the room's aroma, fresh linens and citrus. Walking over to the metal case she curled her fingers around the cold handle and lifted it. There was no turning back now. Cherry-red pumps tapping against distressed hardwood floors, she made her way to the door unlocking it and pulled it open. She instantly caught the scent of gun oil and something else, cloves? She locked gazes with a man dressed in a two-button charcoal suit, wool she noted. She took a moment to regard him, squared jaw and bowed lips, topped with auburn colored hair cropped short- an ex mercenary then.

"Miss Wong," His squinty eyes narrowed as he said her name and then offered her a tight smile that didn't quite reach his flat grey eyes. His voice had been deceptively warm and spiced with an accent she couldn't place. His gaze dropped to stare at the object of interest. Ada lifted the case handing it to him.

"Ex mercenary?" she nudged for information as he took hold of the case. His eyes flashed back up to her,

"What gave it away?" he asked, genuinely interested, his grey eyes darkening, a hint of warning just beneath their expression. She answered his question by providing him with an example of a proper false smile, one she has crafted from years of experience. Humor lit his eyes before he nodded and turned away taking the sample with him. She watched as the ex mercenary walked down the hall disappearing around the corner. And just like that the deal had been sealed.

Ada closed the door behind her, adrenaline leaving familiar prickling chills just beneath her skin. She had made her decision crystal clear. She leaned against the door slightly allowing herself to sink into her thoughts. A smile tilted her lips; she wondered how Albert Wesker would like the Subordinate Sample. The thought was more satisfying than expected, after all he deserved it. Their relationship had started so long ago, a lifetime ago and one thing remained certain and that was that they had only one thing in common; both their lives were taken by the very same man and his twisted ambitions.

Ada's mood soured knotting her stomach instantly. She realized she hadn't eaten anything since she had arrived. Taking a proper shower and swapping her ruined red dress for a white fitted satin skirt and a black straight-cut chiffon blouse had taken priority. A light sigh escaped her lips, eating sometimes was such a chore, but she couldn't hope to infiltrate a new organization with an empty stomach. Walking over to the coffee table she lifted the hotel's service booklet and skimmed over to the food service section.

"Order from our exclusive Madrid Café serving avant-garde cuisine from Spain" she read aloud. Lifting a perfectly sculpted brow she let the booklet fall back onto the glass surface. "Spanish food it is."

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1994

Raccoon City, Pennsylvania

"I DIDN'T EXPECT YOU," ADA WONG said paused in front of the worn patio seat outside of Café 21. Smoothing out the hem of her currant colored peplum dress she took a seat on the hard surface of the wooden chair immediately finding it extremely uncomfortable. Is this what passed as decent in this city?

"I am sorry to disappoint," he responded, eyeing her from beneath the cover of his dark sunglasses. Ada had never met with Albert Wesker, but the moment she saw him there, face caught in the shadow of an old dogwood tree standing decoratively on the sidewalk, the recognition alone had sent a cold chill along her spine. If anyone had ties to the people at the top of Umbrella's command, he was one of the few. Besides being important, he was also considered to be a brilliant researcher, his name mentioned almost always hand in hand with William Birkin. But unlike William, Albert was something else entirely different.

Images began to suddenly ripple against the cool surface of Ada's thoughts- scattered papers, handwritten documents spilling onto the carpeted floor from mahogany desktops, a trembling hand lifting them up, eyes scanning the pictures of children, grim faces and empty eyes staring forward. Had she looked like them?

Quickly shoving the surfaced thoughts back to the depths of her memories- where they belonged, she focused on the one question burning bright.

"So what does one of Umbrella's top researchers want with me?" Ada leaned slightly forward. If she was going to waste time and not get paid for it he had better planned to make this one quick.

"I want to make you an offer." He answered with a slight tilt of the head, a somewhat bored expression settling over his tight features almost as if he's made this offer one too many times. Her brows lifted in an _oh?-_expression, she had to give it to him she hadn't expected that.

"I'm listening" she responded, she saw the amusement in her eyes reflect off his sunglasses, she wondered, could she make the oh-so-stoic Albert squirm? No, she quickly shot down that idea, there was something about him that told her she had walked into a well thought out plan, and just for a moment she thought she could see it. To the untrained eye he may have seemed like just another working man in the ever-growing Raccoon City, but Ada knew better, Albert Wesker was dangerous.

"Now that I have your attention, allow me to explain a few things first." And there went her hopes for a short meeting. Ada shifted in her seat, tucking strands of long black hair behind one ear. "I was the one who requested your transfer to Raccoon City." He said, Ada narrowed her eyes but said nothing. So far after leaving Umbrella's headquarters in Europe she thought very little of this city and now she had a face to thank for her being there. "Three years ago, Umbrella began the construction of a new facility here."

"Yes I know it was the same year you transferred to the information department." Ada added. She watched Albert tense for the first time during their meeting, besides the slight pursing of his thin lips, he gave nothing away. Ada inwardly smiled; he wasn't the only one keeping close tabs on Umbrella's top-of-the-list, and she was going to make sure he knew that.

"Very good," he replied stiffly, "then you must also know that this city is owned by Umbrella, since most government officials are on Umbrella's payroll, including the chief of police Brian Irons." So the rumors were true, after building just one secret underground facility- a rather large one- Umbrella has transformed this city into their own personal playground.

"Brian Irons…" Ada repeated after a moment, "Keeping an eye on him is one of the objectives on my to-do list." She mused aloud. Her to-do list while in this city wasn't a long one, but would without a doubt keep her busy.

"Not anymore, I will be taking care of that responsibility myself. Irons and I have made an agreement; I am to become captain of a new police division within the R.P.D, a special tactics and rescue squad. This, however, might take some time to establish."

"How much time?" Ada asked. She was beginning to take this meeting seriously. Albert wouldn't be spilling this kind of information without a reason and she was going to make sure she took advantage of it.

"One to two years." He answered swiftly and brought a finger to adjust his sunglasses that had been gradually slipping down the bridge of his nose. Ada lifted an arm to rest over the tabletop, so he had planned this out, but how far had he gone? She was willing to find out.

"And William? I was to escort his _research,_" she said carefully, "to the Arklay facility." William's work had also begun three years ago, though Ada hadn't been briefed on what his research was about, she could guess it had something to do with a variant of the T-virus. Those experiments…

"Leave _Birkin_ to me," he said too quickly. Ada was surprised by the way Albert had said William's name, a bitter undertone that he didn't quite manage to hide. Although Ada couldn't deduct anything from his face- eyes hidden behind shades, or his stiff body language, his voice was wide open for Ada's scrutiny. Interesting, so William Birkin and Albert Wesker weren't playing nice anymore- that was good to know.

"Then why am I here?" Ada didn't bother hiding the annoyance that clung to her voice; she wasn't a fan of her given orders changing, not then, not now.

"That leads me to my offer, Miss Wong." He lifted an arm to rest over the table, his black tailored suit moving with him. "The Umbrella Pharmaceutical Corporation is on the verge of collapse. I am offering you a way out before it does."

"And you know this for certain?" Doubt laced Ada's question. As far as she knew, Umbrella was expanding not collapsing, their facilities stretching all over the globe and growing still. For once an amused look came over Albert's perfectly composed face, his flat lips twisting into something she assumed was a smirk- the look didn't quite suit him.

"Honestly you cannot see it? Spencer is the last remaining head of Umbrella. He is a man that knows no bounds to his delusions. In using Umbrella for his own fantasies he is willing to push far and beyond limitations. Mistakes are bound to be made Miss Wong; it is only a matter of time."

Ada's gaze became distant, suddenly deep in thought. Spencer, the name alone brought about a heated touch of hatred to curl around her heart, but Albert was right, he _was_ the last founder alive but also the man she worked for and had only met once. The other two founders, Edward Ashford and James Marcus had died- or more accurately put had been eliminated- a long time ago. Speaking of James Marcus, how could she have forgotten? It had been rumored that Albert Wesker and William Birkin had been sent to assassinate the founder under the direct orders of Spencer himself. Sitting across from Albert now, she had no doubt he had been capable of it.

"And once Umbrella does fall," he continued, "I will make sure it does thoroughly."

The menace in Albert's tone pulled Ada back to reality, her gaze suddenly sharp. Albert was actually talking about betraying one of the most powerful global corporations in the world, and he was asking her to be part of it.

The thought intrigued her, Albert Wesker- Umbrella scientist, assassin, future police captain, and potential traitor? She had to admit, if not plain unsettling, Albert Wesker was surely beginning to quickly become an enigma. Ada offered him a smirk of her own, red lips tilting upwards as she realized that she had been looking for a way out of the corporation anyway, and Albert was just the person she needed to pull her out of the ever looming shadows of Umbrella- and if things went sour one could always use a scapegoat.

Ada was absolutely certain that he had anticipated her answer the moment he had considered her- arrogant as he was.

"I accept." She said lightly apparently catching him by surprise with her sudden answer. "But what are the terms?" Ada was willing to play his game for now, but the moment he proved to be inadequate there was nothing stopping her from walking away.

"The terms are simple Miss Wong. I am in the process of contacting one of Umbrella's rivals, and I need you to keep a close eye on Umbrella's research. Work for me and I will make sure you have a secured position and are very well compensated." He answered offering her power and money- he clearly knew her interests, but Ada wasn't stupid, she also knew the moment he didn't need her she'd be just as disposable as he was to her.

"If we're going to work together better get used to calling me Ada." Albert actually scoffed,

"That can be arranged." He answered with forced politeness. Ada refused the urge to roll her eyes; so this was the kind of game he wanted to play and it was the kind of game she had been preparing for her entire life.

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:: _Sugar Water_ performed by _Cibo Matto_ ::

Water steadily fell into a pale cream colored sink as Ada stared into the squared silver framed mirror that was beginning to chip at one corner. She gazed upon herself one last time before she had to give the greatest performance of her life.

_"His name is Jon Curtis. He was just transferred from the facility located in Chicago to replace Birkin as head researcher at the Arklay facility." Albert had explained. Ada hadn't become familiar with the Arklay facility that hid behind the facade of a European Mansion, but something told her that would change._

_"He will undoubtedly have access to the T-virus and all its previous research. Since I have retired from my position as a researcher, I will no longer have direct access to research data." Albert had paused, "And this is when your role begins. I need you to get close to Jon in order to retrieve data corresponding not only with the T-virus but whatever Birkin is working on. Birkin's work is of up-most importance."_

_"And how do you expect me to access the labs?" Ada had asked. The underground facilities were difficult to get into without a high-level clearance keycard, cards that were issued exclusively to Umbrella's prized researchers._

_"I will handle the first part of your mission in making sure that you are transferred to the facility as a researcher, as for the rest… use your imagination."He had answered and Ada's gaze had turned to ice. _

_"I'll do my best" she had said after a moment knowing how to choose her battles, and that had not been the time or place. After that, Albert had stood marking the end of their meeting, his sunglasses winking beneath the light of the sun's rays. Ada had quickly followed eager to get out of the harsh confines of the wooden patio chair._

_"Good, I will leave you to it, _Ada_. I expect a lot out of one of Umbrella's top operatives." His voice had been smug saying her name. Without waiting for a response, he had turned around and had begun to walk away._

_"Wesker" Ada had called out, his name tasting sour over her tongue. Albert had paused in his tracks, "If I had said no?" Ada waited for his answer, depending on his response she would know just how important her role really was to his plans. As he answered, green leaves had swayed in the warm summer wind._

After that meeting which had ended not that long ago- though it already felt too distant- she had arrived at the Apple Inn Hotel located in Raccoon City's uptown district. Somehow she had managed to change the entire course of her lifetime-loyalty in one warm and seemingly slow summer morning- with someone she had never met face to face no less- and now she found herself staring at her reflection in a cheap hotel bathroom pondering how she felt about watering down her years of training to play researcher.

"Jon…" she said lowly, testing the name on her tongue, but her voice overpowered by the running water. Switching the faucet off, she took hold of a pair of metal shears and held them up. Her black hair flowed passed her shoulders in long straight strands. She had kept her hair lengthy for as long as she could remember, long enough to be known for it- a trademark of sorts.

In one swift movement the sharp edge of the shears cut through the silken strands, lock after dark lock falling to settle over the porcelain sink. Red stained lips parted as she stared deeper into her reflection, already feeling like someone else- hair now framing her face and ending at her chin in uneven layers- edgy she thought but grown up.

Taking hold of a damp washcloth she had wet earlier, she rubbed it over her lips, red-red pigment quickly staining it as she washed yet another trademark away- a trademark to others yes, but a very meaningful symbol to her. She allowed herself to smile, rosy nude lips lifting at the corners. Umbrella had given her everything she could have wanted but it had all come with a rather large price- one she had learned about one year ago. HUNK, she wondered if he had gotten a little visit from Albert as well.

The thought lingered as she cleaned up, letting the remains of her hair and washcloth drop into the waste bin. She would have to become someone else for now, but it was all worth it in the end. She had realized that the moment she had learned the truth about what Umbrella had done to her. As for Albert, she would allow him to think he was the one pulling the strings; that was the only way to control a man with such an enormous ego. Once this little pretense was over, she would- without a doubt- return to the only thing she knew, and nothing would threaten her freedom ever again.


	2. Prologue: Part Two

AN: At last the prologue is completed! It's a bit long but then again Leon has a lot to deal with! After this it will be smooth sailing into the story ;)

Special thanks to those who read and reviewed!

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The Games They Play

Prologue: Part Two

2004

Over the waters of the Balearic Sea, Spain

"I'M FINE, HELP HER" LEON SHOUTED, his voice straining over the sound of the helicopter's whipping blades. Two hands aided Ashley off of the rescue ladder and into the chopper, her small frame disappearing from his view. Another hand stretched out and Leon grabbed it, pulling himself into the ample cabin.

He squinted, eyes having to adjust to the shadows after having grown accustomed to the blaring sunlight that had reflected off miles of open water. The jet ski had run out of gas leaving them stranded about a hundred and fifty kilometers west of the Balearic Islands. Luckily for him and the president's daughter, the rescue helicopter had arrived soon after receiving their coordinates.

Finally a glimpse of relief poured into Leon once he saw that Ashley Graham was in the care of two EMTs, the girl's face somewhat pale in the low lighting, a white towel already wrapped around her shivering shoulders.

"Kennedy," Leon pulled his gaze away from Ashley and toward agent Morgan who had helped him inside. Leon stretched out his arm to receive the agent's clasp of the hand- a familiar gesture amongst agents meaning- _we're on the same team,_ and after this mission the little gesture spoke volumes. Morgan was part of the Secret Service Emergency Response Team, along with two other agents, one of them who Leon recognized to be agent McCarthy. If they were there, Leon had no doubt that his call for backup had been taken seriously- especially when the first two attempts for rescue had failed.

"Hey, good to see a familiar face," Leon greeted offering a genuine but tired smile and moving away from where Ashley sat at opposite end of the cabin standing next to him.

"I'm sure, after what you've just been through…" Morgan said, pale brown eyes trailing off with a shake of his hairless head. Silence fell over them for a moment, Leon feeling the heaviness of those words as they settled in. When he had first arrived at the small village of Pueblo he had expected a normal investigation- which would have meant following up on leads that eventually would have led to something or nothing at all. But what he got was an elaborate terrorist scheme that involved taking over the world using ancient parasitic organisms- and it just so happened that they had decided to start with the United States.

Las Plagas, besides what Luis Serra had told him, Leon knew very little about them but there was one thing he knew for sure, the parasites could prove lethal, Leon having witnessed it firsthand wipe out an entire village along with some very good people. If anything, the parasites rivaled the known viral mutagens as potential weapons used for biological warfare; although the Los Illuminados cult had failed, a sample still existed somewhere and if it ever got into the wrong hands…

_"Don't worry I'll take good care of it."_

The voice taunted a cruel reminder that Ada Wong was indeed alive and allied with the wrong side choosing to work with someone like Albert Wesker. Leon's already knotted muscles coiled tighter. He had been close to obtaining the last surviving sample only to have it taken away by the very same woman who had saved his life- the word complicated didn't begin to scratch the surface.

"Here," Morgan's voice snapped Leon from his thoughts reminding him that now wasn't a good time for reminiscing- there would be plenty of time to do that later, for now he was still part of the secret service and very much on duty.

Leon took the UHF 900MHz Radio from Morgan's gloved hand, taking the earpiece and inserting it into his left ear. The Radio frequencies crackled to life, the feed encrypted for secure dialogue- there was no tapping into this one.

_"Agent Clint reporting…Kill Zone Two listening go ahead…Garnet is in custody…Requesting status...EMTs report mild hypothermia and dehydration…Location…Holly is westward bound heading thirty-nine twenty-nine thirty-four seventy-nine North zero twenty-eight thirty-five fifty-five West…Copy…Precious cargo ETA thirty-five requesting section two landing…Copy that bring it home…"_

Leon toned down the radio's volume to a soft buzz, his eyes searching for Ashley once more. He watched as she spoke softly to the agent- agent Clint- who stood nearby, her topaz colored eyes too wide. The young girl had endured enough traumas to last her a lifetime- he would know. Leon had been around her age when he had first stepped foot into the horrors that awaited him in Raccoon City, and somehow no matter how many days passed since then the images still clung onto him with tight fists. All too soon Leon felt his sympathy for Ashley curl around his heart in a bittersweet embrace.

"Hey, you did good out there, better than any one of us. But right now, all she needs is her family." Morgan's voice was reassuring perhaps picking up on his plunging mood. Leon nodded in agreement. He was right of course, despite it all she was safe and unlike so many others Ashley Graham would get to see home.

"Need anything?" Agent McCarthy spoke up, a military-green hat covering his face in shadow contouring his features with jagged dark lines making the man seem much older than the thirty-something that he was.

"Some water would be nice," Leon responded, he couldn't remember the last time he had a sip- trying not to get killed was a result of that. Taking hold of the chilled plastic bottle he twisted the cap and downed it, the liquid burning his throat and settling in his empty stomach like a brick of ice. "Where are we headed?" Leon asked after a moment. Morgan leaned on the back wall, a Belgian FN P90 sub machine gun held loosely in one hand.

"Valencia Airport," he answered shifting his weight, "it was hell getting clearance in the off season, Dartmouth had to pull a few strings over at Delta, but it was the closest landing near you. You sure picked one hell-of-a place Kennedy." Leon allowed a low laugh at his last comment; of course, it hadn't been his idea to end up in the middle of the vast sea.

Dartmouth, Leon pondered. At least the President's codename was the same, but Leon hadn't failed in picking up Ashley's new codename from the last radio transmission- Garnet. Three days ago the codename Canary was still used in her stead. If the White House Communications Agency had reason to change the code it could only mean one thing, the media had caught whiff of it and perhaps about this entire ordeal as well- everyone knew that the media was a secret service nightmare.

"Heads up," McCarthy lightly flung a vest in his direction, Leon caught it. "Time to gear up," McCarthy said and nodded over at agent Clint who left Ashley's side and crossed over to join them, a black watch cap over his head hiding the man's brows and ears.

Leon looked over the NIJ level three-A ballistics vest, its lightweight plates increasing the armor to a level four- one of these would have been useful a couple of days ago. Leon inserted the radio in its designated pouch before putting it on, the vest fitting tight around his chest.

"The name's Clint," Agent Clint briefly introduced himself while handing Leon a Glock nine millimeter- a favorite among security forces but not the usual Secret Service three fifty-seven semi automatic pistol.

"Kennedy," Leon returned and watched Clint's dark brown eyes fill with something like recognition. Leon had never met him which most likely meant he was one of the end-of-the year graduates- a rookie on board. A rookie to the ERT yes, but judging by his eyes set sternly into his face, he had seen his fair share of military training.

The copter lowered in elevation, Leon's gaze falling over Valencia's coastline, an array of azure ocean and white sand lined by Spanish clay colored rooftops, some a modern silver that glittered beneath the sun. The city of Valencia was simply stunning, hard to believe that not that far from it all hell had broken loose.

_"Kill Zone Two we have visual…Copy that proceed to southwest helipad...Spotter One reporting we have a Signature coming in south bound…Bookstore will have a field day better hurry it up…Holly requesting Kneecap status…Kneecap is ready to go…Spotter One pulling in…Section one and three secured…"_

Speech spoken through the transmission naturally muted as Leon focused on what had to be done once the chopper landed. So far the information relayed over the radio informed them that a press aircraft had arrived on the scene, most likely already circling the skies above- meaning the transition from the helicopter to the escape aircraft had to be a quick one and a smooth one.

Valencia Airport had been about eight kilometers west of the actual city of Valencia and judging by the aerial view of the airport, Leon had noticed that it had one terminal and only one functioning runway making the medium sized airport seem a lot busier than it really was.

"Time to get this show on the road," McCarthy announced receiving agreeing nods all around. The helicopter successfully landed around the grassy patch deemed helipad, the routers eventually slowing to a complete stop. "We'll let the EMTs and Pilot go first, we'll follow close behind." McCarthy turned to Clint,

"Kill zone two, EMTs and Diver headed your way. Prepare for Garnet's arrival." While Clint reported back to the secured perimeter around the escape aircraft, the Pilot and two medics were ushered to exit the chopper.

"Kennedy, you're up." Morgan said while moving to cover the left side of the exit, McCarthy holding back along with agent Clint- taking the rear.

"Yeah," Leon moved toward Ashley, she had stood up from the bench watching them, her umber colored sweater no longer wrapped around her waist but rather fitting snuggly around her frame.

"Leon what's happening?" She asked, eyes scanning past him to the unfamiliar agents standing in wait before curling her fingers tighter around the towel around her. Sensing her slight discomfort Leon stepped in front of her shielding her from the watchful stares of the other agents, Ashley's gaze forced to meet his. Leon slightly lowered himself making sure to keep his voice light.

"We're going to leave the helicopter now so stay close," visibly relaxing Ashley nodded. Leon placed a gentle guiding hand over one sweater covered arm,

"Wait, I hear another helicopter out there," she hesitated, "is it the media?" Leon immediately understood her concern; the media were not exactly sympathetic, usually painting an unforgiving picture of any situation.

"Yes," he decided to answered honestly and Ashley slightly frowned, her gaze dropping before slowly meeting his gaze again,

"I don't want them to see me," Ashley self-consciously tucked a blonde strand of hair behind one ear before offering him a sheepish half-smile. Leon's eyes softened, beneath all that bravery there was a young girl after all. Leon offered her a warm smile,

"It's ok, we won't let that happen," Leon paused, "I won't let that happen." He promised and once again gained a cooperative nod from the president's daughter, pleased to see the cheerfulness return to her warm colored eyes. This time Ashley allowed him to guide her toward the exit, Leon nodding at Morgan who took point.

Outside sunlight spilled over the airport's runway, the media helicopter circling above casting long and moving shadows- a reminder that they were not alone. Luckily for them, the ERT had secured numerous sections keeping the media that had gathered just outside the perimeter at a safe distance, but their shouts and hollers still made it to their ears despite the loud roaring of aircraft engines. With agent Morgan taking point and Clint and McCarthy holding the rear, Leon walked closely beside Ashley in the center forming the infamous Secret Service protective bubble- no one gets in, no one gets out and that's how they liked it.

As planned the transition from the military-grade helicopter to the escape aircraft, a Business Elite Boeing 777-200LR- graciously provided by Delta Airlines, had gone smooth. The inside of the airplane was brightly lit, four rows of vibrant blue seats stretching the length of the spacious airplane cabin, a grand total of forty-five first class flat bed seats. The entire aircraft, however, could accommodate two-hundred and sixty-nine passengers and only the business elite section of the aircraft would be used.

"Miss Graham," both Ashley and Leon turned to look at James Sullivan, Assistant Chief of the Secret Service Uniformed Division, "I'm glad to see you're safe, if you would please follow agent Clint to row one, we have set up a private area for you. President Graham is waiting on a secured phone line to speak with you."

Leon watched as Ashley smiled at the mention of her father. He hadn't known President Graham for too long, but from what Leon had observed he was a dedicated father, Ashley being his only daughter. Leon couldn't begin to imagine what The President was going through in a time like this. Ashley gave him one last look before following agent Clint to the front of the plane, and disappearing behind a white curtain that covered the entire first row.

"Agent Kennedy nice job," James switched his attention toward Leon and offered him his left hand; Leon accepted his handshake and as always it was firm- a handshake of an honest man. James Sullivan was known for his lefty handshake after the nerves of his right hand had been destroyed on duty leaving it permanently lifeless.

"Thank you sir," Leon managed to say with a smile. He noticed that the rest of the ERT were flooding in through the entrance between rows seven and ten, settling around the outer rows before taking their seats. The escape aircraft, or secret service code- Kneecap, had already been prepared for their arrival and would be ready for takeoff within minutes.

"Have a seat, I'm going to brief you on what's going to happen once we arrive at headquarters." James gestured to the second seat in row ten behind a small galley, the assistant chief taking the one next to him. It wasn't until Leon really settled into his chair that he felt how tired his body really felt but his senses remained sharp, adrenaline refusing to drain out of him.

"We are going to land Curbside. White Hawk will be on standby upon our arrival ready to take Garnet to Washington Hospital." Assistant Chief Sullivan explained. Leon recognized Curbside to be code for the Reagan National Airport, the closest airport to the White House.

"Will I still be on protective detail?" Leon asked knowing that the chance to escort Ashley to the hospital was highly unlikely, but he knew his presence would help put her at ease.

"Afraid not, you'll report to headquarters and meet up with Flynn; then you'll have to attend The President's Daily Brief for one hell of a debriefing." Giving Leon a swift pat on the shoulder, James stood from his seat, "for now, we are over three-thousand miles away from home, I suggest you rest up." He finished saying with lifted eyebrows and a sympathetic offer of a grin.

"Copy that sir," Leon answered voice light and appreciative. Leon waited for James to turn around and walk to the front of the plane before lifting a hand to brush across his forehead, fingers moving strands of sweat-dampened hair away from his face. The President's Daily Brief- a meeting usually attended by directors from the FBI, CIA and Department of Homeland Security and also the Secret Service head director, Thomas Flynn.

Just the thought of a debriefing could make Leon cringe. Most people thought it was as easy as sitting down and answering questions, but the truth was he would have to pick his memory apart, pulling on even the slightest of details- a draining process, one he wasn't sure he'd be able to do with a clear head. He had about seven hours before their plane would reach home and then it would be all eyes on him.

* * *

Downtown Washington DC

The words _Worthy of Trust and Confidence_ were displayed elegantly in the naturally lit building entrance wall, letters hanging on the marbled tiles and framed in gold. The SUV had pulled up in front of the postmodern low-rise building, unmarked from the outside and constructed out of beautifully laid terra cotta colored bricks. The building stood nine stories tall and hid a labyrinth of rooms that stretched five floors belowground. To ordinary citizens this building was just another new construction in downtown Washington DC, but for Leon, this was his second home- The Secret Service Headquarters.

It had only taken a little over half an hour to arrive at headquarters. The plane had landed at National Airport, taking what was known as the river view landing- which followed the path of the nearby Potomac River, on runway 19. The smaller of the presidential helicopters, White Hawk, had been waiting to take Ashley to the nearest hospital where she would receive treatment for her mild conditions. Leon had not gotten the chance to see her off and he doubted he'd be seeing her soon. The moment she had been escorted out of the plane by the rest of her assigned protective detail, his mission had officially come to an end.

Leon walked through the main lobby and gave a quick nod of acknowledgment to the front desk security. He didn't quite particularly like being escorted, but he understood the reasons behind it. Completely aware of the uniformed division officers trailing behind him, Leon reached the glass doors to the right and waited for the heavy bulletproof doors to automatically open after the push of a security press and release latch.

Stepping into the brightly lit hall, his eyes settled over the shrine-like wall dedicated to the display of the Secret Service insignia star along with the words _duty, justice, courage, honesty, _and_ loyalty_ inscribed at each point- yet another weighted reminder of his responsibilities. Just as those words were engraved onto marble, they were engraved into each and every agent sworn into the Secret Service. This was a sight Leon has seen many times before walking these halls, but knowingly enough the words seemed to linger this time around, clung to his every thought.

Every step he took, field boots pressing over gleaming white tile, he was closer to having to choose between his own sense of justice and what he knew needed to be said and done. Of course, this would all be easier if a certain someone had not been involved. Ada- he was surprised to find that his need to protect her was alive and well, even after the test of time- something about that realization was unsettling. Leon focused on taking the fastest route to conference room number one, remembering his promise not to think of her until all his duties were officially done with.

Leon stopped in front of the meeting room door- _meeting in progress_ already set beside the door in its own special little plaque. Thomas Flynn sat alone at a table that was usually occupied with twelve other people, his casual position reflecting his more often than not cool demeanor.

"Agent Kennedy, nice to see you're in one piece," he said glancing his way, his tone uplifted but otherwise flat. And that was it, no solutes or special words of appreciation and surely no extra pats on the back and that's why Leon liked him. Flynn wasn't the type to over congratulate someone for doing their job. "You haven't talked to anyone right?" Flynn quickly added without waiting for a response.

Leon walked over to the closest available chair and sat. "No sir," he answered.

"Good. It seems that the Spanish government isn't cooperating in our involvement with the ongoing investigation."

"We had their support," Leon interjected. This was news to him. The Spanish government had been completely accommodating throughout his investigation, one that had lasted several days traveling up and down Spain's coastal cities until finally reaching the city of Pueblo.

"Yeah well, they weren't too happy with two of their local police disappearing and one of their oldest cities going boom," Flynn let his breath become a sound effect, palms stretching in the air in an exploding gesture before settling his hands over the table, "go figure."

Leon leaned back in his seat- the man was right. The mission to Spain hadn't gone as smooth as he hoped but could it have gone any differently? No, it could have been worse- so much worse. Flynn was in no way blaming him, as always he was sticking to his _tell-it-like-it-is _ethics.

"Luckily for you and me," he paused, "dealing with the Spanish government is way out of our job description." Despite the informal-like quality their meeting had taken, neither of them laughed. And after a moment Leon surfaced the subject that has been gnawing at him for the last seven hours.

"So I hear I'm to attend the daily brief?" Flynn positioned himself to face Leon, stern eyes suddenly narrowing.

"That's right. You're in for about five hours of scrutiny- give or take, and let me tell you it's no walk in the park; even I get chewed up in there from time to time." Flynn smiled, aged skin wrinkling over high cheekbones, "but since you'll be the guest of honor they might cut you some slack."

Leon's low laugh sounded like a huff, Flynn's attempt at lightening the situation was as dry as ever. They both knew damn well that no one was going to get some slack, especially not Leon. "Any advice?" Leon hoped to get something useful out of his superior- a man who mostly likely has seen it, heard it, and done it all. Leon watched as Flynn regarded him for a while in uncomfortable silence, one withered hand rubbing at his chin.

"Son, you are about to address a room full of people who are in charge of the safety of this entire country. My advice? Wash up and get a change of clothes."

* * *

The White House, Washington DC

Leon gained a few stares from the passing staff, most of them female he noticed. He might have appreciated this on another day but this day continued to stretch on beyond the point of torture. Tired and now sleep deprived, Leon worked on his third cup of coffee which might not have seemed like much, but for Leon who rarely drank the bitter stuff, it was way more coffee than he'd like to stomach for a day.

Fueled by jittery caffeine, his mind couldn't help but to ruffle through what had happened during the debriefing. He remembered the looks on each of the assembly members' faces when they realized that it had been one of their own who had done the dirty deed; Jack Krauser- former teammate, US special ops soldier and Ashley Graham's abductor. But Leon couldn't decide which one had been worse, their response to knowing it had been an internal betrayal or the fact that he had claimed to have worked for the Umbrella Corporation, a corporation thought to be long gone.

In short, the presidential daily brief had been every bit of hell Flynn had made it out to be. And the result? Security would be tightening for the next few months, and the Plagas parasite has been deemed top priority as an active global threat- one Leon knew to exist in a tiny vial in the hands of one woman. During the entire length of his debriefing not once did he mention Ada Wong, and in doing so kept crucial information that could help keep the parasite out of the wrong hands. But then, why didn't he feel guilty?

_"Kennedy, Dartmouth is ready for you on Truman."_

As if on cue the voice flowed through his earpiece, just the distraction he needed. Leon set the half-_full_ paper cup over the lobby table and made his way up the stairs to the second floor where the Secret Service rarely step foot in. He has seen the second floor before, the décor bright and crisp with splashes of pale yellow throughout the fixtures. The second floor was truly the only place where the President and his family had any privacy.

Leon crossed the family room and headed over to the Truman balcony. President Graham stood over the red flooring facing the south lawn, gaze focused on the distant Washington Monument. Leon stopped a few steps behind him, not sure if he was intruding. But as he did Graham turned around, a halfhearted smile just barely pulling at a corner of his mouth.

"I know this has been a long day for you, but I had to thank you personally, as President of the United States and as a father, for rescuing my daughter." He spoke slowly, each word filled with sincerity that Leon could feel.

Leon wasn't the one to smile that easily, but the day, as tiring as it has been, was also just as rewarding. "It was an honor sir," Leon responded quietly. Graham moved toward him and gave him a tap followed by a light squeeze over the shoulder.

"There is something else." The President looked him in the eye, and for a moment he saw the same warm glimmer that he had seen in Ashley's eyes.

"Mr. President?" Leon prompted.

"I would like to transfer you to a different agency, one you'll be of great use to. How would you like to be part of the DSO of Homeland Security?"

"It would be a change but if it's necessary then I'll do my best." Leon answered, knowing that this transfer would bring him closer to his own personal goals- making sure that Raccoon City never happened again.

"You don't have to be modest," the President chuckled and gave him one last pat on the shoulder before curling his hands around the iron railing, leaning forward towards the setting sun. "You'll do just fine," he trailed off and after a moment exhaled in a tired sigh. "I think you've spent enough time here, you should probably head on out." Leon inwardly smiled; he had no problem following those orders.

* * *

Making his way halfway through the White House's west wing, Leon stopped when suddenly a face in the crowd caught his attention, and by the way she stopped as their gazes met the recognition had been mutual.

"Agent Leon Kennedy?" her voice sounded different in person, her skin not as pale but rather sun-kissed. Ingrid Hunnigan was also a lot shorter than he had imagined, but her face was just as stunningly attractive. When he didn't answer right away she smiled, "nice to meet you in person."

"Likewise," Leon quickly recovered and shook her offered hand. Her hand lingered in his for a fraction of a second as she subtly looked him over. It was then that Leon remembered what he had changed into after following Flynn's _advice_- a slightly loose fitting navy blue shirt that he wore three days out of the week during mandatory hours of training, the words _Secret Service_ displayed across the chest, that and a spare pair of pants he luckily kept on hand. His clothes didn't exactly comply with the White House dress code but it was all he had in his locker back at headquarters.

"Couldn't imagine the mission without you, thanks for putting up with me," Leon said and grinned at the thought of the sly remarks and advances he had thrown her way. Unfortunately Ingrid Hunnigan had involuntarily become his stress reliever during the mission. Ingrid looked away coyly; she obviously didn't take compliments very well.

"You're welcome. You're an excellent field agent." Somehow her response seemed automated, she was either trying to keep their conversation very formal or she's been on the job for too long. Leon guessed it was a bit of both, but it was time to break the ice.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" Leon posed the question almost impulsively. Ingrid's eyes widened behind her glasses, a somewhat confused look then settled over her face. She opened her mouth to speak but said nothing.

"Ok… what is it?" She was hesitant but he expected that much.

"I have a piece of information that I need you to look into." Leon didn't know how far he could go with this, but it was worth a try.

"If you have extra information why didn't you report it during your debriefing?" Ingrid actually sounded like she was scolding him; she was sharp he'd give her that.

Leon took a moment to choose his next words carefully. "I need this to stay off the record."

The woman stared at him dumbfounded. Going behind the government and keeping valuable information was no easy favor to grant. He was asking for a lot, Leon knew that but depending on how she answered, it would determine their relationship from then on out.

"What kind of information?" Leon relaxed, she trusted him and that's all he could ask for.

"A name," he answered, "Ada Wong."


End file.
